


Knot because I love you, just because I care

by kissmelikeapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-02 09:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10214162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmelikeapirate/pseuds/kissmelikeapirate
Summary: Her visa was up. He offered to help. That's what friends are for -right?





	1. Chapter 1

“You know you have to actually lift the glass to your lips to drink the vodka.”

Emma lifted her gaze from the glass of icy spirit and smiled.

“Funnily enough I had heard that before, Jones.”

“And here I was thinking that I had stumbled upon something revelatory.” 

He gestured to the seat beside her and she nodded, waiting until he ordered a drink. 

It was Tuesday and The Rabbit Hole sports bar was just about as empty as she had ever seen it. She was glad of it - the last thing she needed now was to deal with a bunch of drunks even if she really wanted to get drunk herself.

His order came, alongside another vodka for her, and he paid with a crisp ten pound note before settling into the stool beside her.

“So, Swan, what brings you to Wimbledon’s only American sports bar tonight?”

He grinned, his smile bright despite how tired he looked.

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, nodding at what remained of his business attire - tie askew and shirt sleeves pushed up.

“I asked first,” he quipped, “But since you must know, today I got a new job and I thought it appropriate to celebrate.”

“The one at Graham’s company?”

He nodded. “Yep, you are looking at the new deputy marketing manager for Mills Media.”

Emma smiled. She knew how much Killian had wanted a promotion and it just wasn’t happening in his current position. At least someone had good news that day.

“That’s great,” she sighed softly, staring longingly into her vodka, before quickly adding, “My visa renewal was declined today.”

“Declined?”

“Apparently there have been some changes to the law and private detectives are not considered to be on the list of ‘needed skills’.”

“But your business- Emma, you’ve been set up in London for two years now, how can they expect you to just leave that?”   
She shrugged. Fact was, the realisation was only just sinking in, almost five hours after a tense meeting with her solicitor. “I’m not sponsored by anyone, so as far as they are concerned my business interests bare no weight in their decision.”

She downed the last of the drink she had been nursing when he arrived, the ice freezing her throat so she had to bite back the urge to choke. She then pulled the second glass towards her, savouring the burn that the vodka was now producing in her gut. A few more and she’d be able to forget about all this, at least for the night.

“So what will you do?”

“What can I? I guess I’ll head back to Boston and then, think of something. I still have a few contacts there.”

Fact was, she’d closed the door on her life there the moment she stepped on the plane to London Heathrow 26 months earlier. The only things left in the city for her now were bad memories and bad blood.

“But your life is here.”

“You try telling that to vVsas and Immigration.”

There had always been a chance that this would happen. Her solicitor had been very frank when she had started the process of filing her papers, but she had hoped that things would turn out for the best. She liked London. Really liked it. She’d formed this great group of friends - both locals and expats - who were more like family than the family she never had, and now it was all going to be cruelly ripped away from her. 

Killian shifted beside her, swinging so he was facing her on the wooden bar stool.

“Marry me.”

She looked at him, her mouth agog.

“Excuse me?”

He took a quick breath, before leaning in a little closer so their faces were inches apart.

“Marry me. Then you can get residency.”

His blue eyes shone with sincerity. Emma couldn’t quite believe what he was suggesting

“What? No. That’s ridiculous. I can’t marry you, I don't love you, like  _ that _ I mean, I-”

Lips curved into a smile, he tilted his head, “And nor do I feel “that way” for you. This is merely me offering my services to get a good friend out of a quandary.”

She paused a second and took a sip of her vodka. He was serious, she could tell. She’d always been good at spotting a lie and this seemed like too far a joke even for Killian. Emma shook her head.

“I can’t marry you Killian. What if you want to, you know, I mean if you met someone…”

He placed his hand over hers where it rested beside her half empty glass.

“Look, love, it’s not like I plan on getting married ‘for real’ any time soon, or ever for that matter. We’ve known each other long enough to make it seem legit - friends falling for each other and all that bullshit.”

“You’re really serious aren’t you?” she wondered, still slightly dazed by the day’s events.   
“As a heart attack.”

She weighed up the pros and cons.

_ Pros: she needed a visa and he was a citizen. He was a decent guy- even if they’d only gotten close recently, he’d been a mutual friend for a long time. It wasn’t like she had any other options right then. _

_ Cons: she was pretty certain that a visa marriage was illegal. Not to mention having to explain to everyone what was going on - would they lie? Would they tell the truth? And there would have to be a wedding -and it all seemed so complicated. _

“I can practically see the cogs turning, Swan.”

“I don’t know, Killian, it seems risky. And a little crazy.”

“Do you trust me?”

Looking into his eyes, she reminded herself she did trust him. His heart was always in the right place even if his love of rum sometimes got the better of him. She knew he wouldn’t screw her over. And if she had to pretend to be married to someone for a while, it didn’t hurt that he was just about one of the most handsome guys she’d ever met. Slowly, she nodded.

“Then at least let us investigate this. It could work.”

She did really want to stay. She thought of everything she would have to leave behind - her business, her friends - his friendship-

Her heart began to pound like crazy as the decision to at least consider this was made.

“Okay, let’s... investigate.”

He reached out his hand, his large palm covering hers as they shook on it, a broad grin on his face as if he just couldn’t wait to commit fraud against the government. She chuckled, holding her other hand to her mouth. “Fuck, this is insane.”

He picked up his rum and swirled it around his glass, looking every inch like he had fallen out of some 1940s film noir.

“No love, this is where the fun begins.”

And with the smile he gave her, she felt her stomach drop.

In the good way.


	2. Chapter 2

“We need to talk.”

Somehow Emma had ended up squashed next to Killian Jones at their friends’ monthly potluck dinner. Mary Margaret Nolan was playing hostess, topping off glasses of wine whilst her husband - and Killian’s old college friend - was enthralling the rest of the assembled crowd with a story of how he had convinced the American ambassador that Quiznos was indeed better than Subway.

“Is now the best time?”

Furtively Emma glanced around the table. No one was looking at them.

“Okay, but let’s leave right after dessert - you know how David gets about everyone trying those new liquors he keeps buying in the airport stores.”

“You mean the ones he can’t drink?”

Chuckling, Emma nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never seen a man unable to stomach anything stronger than a beer before.”

Killian lifted up his own glass of rum and Emma’s laugh got louder.

“I know that is not an issue for you.”

He waggled his eyebrows.

“What are you two conspiring about?”

They both looked up to see Ruby Lucas’s accusatory gaze fixed upon them. She was a supreme gossip queen - always trying to sniff out the freshest tattle.

“Nothing, just talking,” Emma replied, trying to give a careless shrug but clearly failing by the way Ruby continued to glare at her. She had yet to reveal to the rest of her friends that her visa was expiring and despite numerous conversations she and Killian were also yet to iron out the details of their little ‘plan’. So, yeah, she had a few things to hide.

“Talking,” Killian mumbled in agreement, nodding until Emma jabbed him in the gut with her elbow.

Ruby smiled.

Now, when Ruby smiled it could be perfectly innocent; where she displayed just a sliver of teeth and dimples punctuated her cheeks. But this smile was different. Her lips were stretched wide, her brows arched, every one of her perfect pearly-whites on display.

“Spill you two, or I share that video I took of you dancing in Leicester Square last Christmas, Emma.”

Emma’s jaw dropped.

“You said you deleted it!”

“As if I would delete leverage like that. Knew I would need it someday.”

She lay back in her chair and picked up her glass of wine, as if to say, ‘ball’s in your court’.

Ruby was her friend but _GOD_ she could be a pain in the ass. And Emma knew that if she didn’t tell her something that video would be on youtube, instagram and snapchat before dinner was over. She opened her mouth, resigned to revealing all about her visa woes when Killian piped up.

“We’re dating.”

Startled, Emma turned to look at Killian - whose hand had somehow found her waist in that second - and stared.

“Have been dating, I mean.”

If the open mouths of their friends were anything to go by, they were just about as shocked as she was by his revelation.

_This was not in the plan!_

(Not that there was much of a plan. Or any plan yet, for that matter.)

Ruby looked like she was going to explode. Her face was reddening. She began to patter her feet against the floor.

“I fucking knew it! I knew it!”

The others were now all talking at once - asking when, where, for how long-

But Emma was concentrating on Ruby (and perhaps a little on the warm hand that was firmly holding her waist).

“You knew what?” she asked, confused.

“That you had a thing for him.” Ruby raised her brows and leaned closer. “Not that I blame you.”

A rebuff was on the tip of her tongue when once again, Killian beat her to it.

“Actually, guys-” he paused and looked at Emma, placing his hand over the one of hers that laid on the table.

It was then she realised what he was about to do.

“Actually we’re engaged.”

_“Engaged?”_

_“What?”_

_“Congratulations!”_ _  
_ _“Congratulations? We didn’t even know they were dating until two minutes ago!”_

_“Damn, good work Swan!”_

David, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Jefferson, Graham, Belle, Tink - everyone was talking at once. For Emma it all turned into a monotoned din, almost an out of body experience. Of all the ways this revelation would happen she hadn’t quite prepared for this one. Her vision began to blur until she felt Killian’s hand tighten on hers.

She looked at him, wanting to rebuke him for dropping them right into this, but then she saw his apologetic expression and she figured she could save the lecture for later. It just looked like he had just sped up the timetable.

“Yeah, um, we are,” she confirmed. That seemed to settle the hubbub.

It was Mary Margaret who spoke first. The only lady in the group who was actually married (and espoused that it was just about the best thing to ever happen to her).

“Wow guys, I know everyone is a little surprised-”

“ _That’s an understatement_ ,” he husband muttered under his breath until she gave him a pointed look.

“But I’m so happy for you both. It sounds like a whirlwind romance if ever there was one.”

Emma looked guiltily at her friends happy faces.

This time she was happy when Killian spoke.

“We weren’t sure what this was so we kept it quiet at first - you know how private our Emma is - but it’s been a few months now.”

Tentatively, Emma let out a soft sigh and laid her head against his shoulder. She may as well play the part, right?

The ladies all ‘ _awwwed_ ’.

Ruby placed down her wine glass and rested her elbows on the table. “I feel like I should be mad but instead I want details. Like when did this happen? Who proposed? Where is the ring?” Her quick-fire questions certainly felt like a military assault.

“It was a couple of weeks ago,” Emma explained, thinking back to the date when he technically had asked her to marry him. Technically.

“And I proposed,” he added.

“Mr. Traditional,” Emma quipped into her wine glass.

“More like knowing that I didn’t want to waste any more time not being with the woman I love.”

 _Holy shit he was good at this_ Emma thought as their friends cooed a bit more and her own cheeks began to redden (it may not be real but she wasn’t entirely devoid of emotion). Killian went on to explain that he was having a ring made that would suit Emma - she made a mental note to figure that one out later.

Killian was clearly an excellent actor she thought, doing the best impression of a fake fiance she had ever seen. Not that she had ever seen one before, of course, besides in movies, but he still beat those. She let him take over answering the questions that dominated the rest of the dinner and he did a deft job of placating their friends without giving too much away that they would both need to remember later.

The groups of friends were so happy that she actually felt a little guilty. But instead of allowing that feeling to fester, she concentrated on keeping a smile on her face to give the appearance of an over-the-moon fiancee, especially since she knew Ruby would be looking for the signs of bliss between her and Killian now that they had been outed as a couple.

They had discussed their friendship group earlier, and one thing that they had managed to agree upon was that telling their friends what they were up to was a bad idea. None of them were very good at keeping secrets and it just seemed simpler that way. It was just to be between the two of them.

They left together - hand in hand, _natch_ \- Mary Margaret already planning an engagement party.

Silently, they walked and she waited until they were a street away before she disentangled herself from his grip.

“Sorry about that, it just slipped out.”

“Would have been nice to have discussed it first,” she admitted, trying not to sound too bitchy because - let’s be real - he was doing this to help her out.

“I know… I just figured we needed to get it out there soon if we are going to get this all tied up before the summer. When does your visa expire?”

“September,” she sighed, pausing under a streetlight and watching her warm breath curl in the cold February air. “I guess it just feels weird now - I mean this is really happening.”

Killian stepped in front of her, blocking out the light from shining on her face. His own face was in shadow but she could still see his smile.

“It is. Is it strange if I say I’m excited?”

She raised her brows at him. “That’s not quite the adjective I was expecting.”

(More like nervous and a little scared.)

He placed an arm around her shoulder.

“I can see how anxious you are by the way your face is all twisted up. Relax Swan, this will be an adventure.”

“You keep saying that,” she said, shivering a little at the cool wind that was nipping through her leather jacket.

“Trust me.”

She looked at him. “I do trust you, I’m just going through a lot of emotions right now. Lying to our friends, committing fraud, having to pretend to be in love - it’s a lot!”

He nodded sympathetically, “Then let’s take it one step at a time. How about we start by you letting me escort you back to your flat?”

“I don’t need a bodyguard, Killian.”

“Didn’t say you did,” he shrugged.

And with a smile, he offered her his arm and she found herself wrapping her arm around his and letting him walk her home, all the while an understanding forming that Killian Jones was showing her - in his own little way - that he would always be there for her.

  
**A/N: Reviews, comments, likes... they all make me happy. I love to know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

“I still can’t believe you two kept this a secret,” Mary Margaret cooed.  
“Well Emma is good at playing her cards close to her chest,” Ruby observed, looking at the other ladies around the table with a knowing eye.  
“Well _I_ think it’s romantic. From friends, to lovers to husband and wife within a few months? It’s a pretty great story.”  
Emma nodded automatically at Belle’s words, still not believing that it was happening; that this was her bachelorette party (“‘Hen party’ is what they are called here, Killian had told her. She thought that just sounded weird). Or even more so that tomorrow they would actually be married.  
“Earth to Emma.” Ruby was waving her hand in from of Emma’s face. “You zoned out there for a minute.”  
“Sorry, I’m just tired…”  
“What, has Killian been keeping you up late? I bet he has quite a few tricks in his pants.” She folded her arms on the table and leaned closer to where Emma sat opposite her, “So, is he good?”  
Emma blushed a deeper shade of red than the dress she was currently wearing.  
“Ruby!” Mary Margaret screeched, tossing half a breadstick at their outspoken friend.  
“We’ve all thought it,” she shrugged.  
“I,er…” Emma stumbled.  
She had somehow managed to not think about Killian in that way before. Well, only fleetingly when they first met and she saw how tight his jeans were. But even through this whole marriage thing it hadn’t occurred to her that people would assume they were having sex. Much less ask about it.  
“You don’t have to answer that,” Tink added, tossing Ruby a small scowl. “Ruby is just being an arse.”  
Ruby stuck out her tongue just as their waiter arrived with a fresh round of cocktails provided the perfect exit from that line of questioning. Emma eagerly accepted her margarita, taking a long sip, letting it calm her nerves.  
“I _do_ have one question,” Belle asked as she twirled the straw that sat in her strawberry daiquiri. “When did it happen? I mean, when did you get together? You’ve both been very coy about it.”  
Emma smiled against the rim of her glass. This story they had prepared in advance. There were certain things that they knew would be asked and that was one of them.  
“It was a few weeks before Christmas and I’d had a pretty shitty day, this guy I’d been tailing gave me the slip and I was down at The Rabbit Hole drowning my sorrows. Killian showed up, to watch some soccer game, I forget which one. And we ended up drinking and talking and… it just happened.”  
Belle smiled dreamily. “ _He kissed you_.”  
Emma’s eyes widened. Though they’d talked through the basics of their ‘getting together’ they hadn’t gone as far as the mechanics of the situation.  
“Um, yeah, I guess he did,” she mumbled, sipping again on her drink to occupy her mouth. The mouth that Killian Jones had certainly never once kissed.

* * *

It was raining.  
London had many kinds of rain. Like that fine misty one that gets a person soaked in seconds. Then there is the thin icy type that always seems to land in your eye and roll down the collar of your shirt. And her least favourite, the relentless sheets type, that sways with the wind and somehow seems to hit you sideways.  
The last kind had left her soaked and standing dripping on the little mat outside the door of Killian Jones flat just shy of midnight.  
The door opened, revealing a sweatpants and t-shirt clad Killian, his hair mussed up, his feet bare. His bachelor party had been the weekend before - he’d taken great pleasure in anticipating how much of a hangover she would have on the day of the ceremony, declaring that he planned to be ‘as fresh as a daisy’. True to his word he had clearly been asleep in bed.  
“Swan? You're soaked-”  
“We haven’t kissed,” she blurted out, her words a little fuzzy after those three cocktails she had consumed over dinner.  
He cocked his head.  
“We’re getting married tomorrow and I still haven’t kissed you,” she continued, barging past him and into the living room that the door opened onto. She dropped her purse on an armchair and then wrapped her arms around herself - whether in response to the cold or her nerves she wasn’t quite sure.  
She heard the door close and Killian followed after her.  
“Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” he teased, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants.  
“It’s not midnight yet and you are avoiding my question.”  
“I believe you made a statement, rather than asked me a question.”  
“You know what I mean.”  
Killian sank to sit on the arm of the chair that Emma had tossed her purse onto.  
“Are you asking me to kiss you?”  
“No - yes - I don’t know…" Emma let her head roll back and look at the ceiling. "I was just thinking earlier that tomorrow a whole bunch of the people we care about are going to watch us say these stupid words and then they are going to expect us to kiss and-” she finally let herself look at him. His brow was all scrunched up and his hands were planted firmly on his thighs. “I just don’t think the first time I kiss you should be in front of an audience.”  
His expression was serious and for a moment, he was quiet. Then slowly he stood, his hands reached out to cup her face, his thumbs brushing briefly across her cheeks before his lips pressed against hers. It was an ever so gentle kiss - not at all what she was expecting. His touch was featherlight, barely even lasting a moment before he was pulling away and studying her face.  
“Better?”  
Wordlessly, she nodded. Despite it’s brevity, the kiss had left a tingle on her lips - together with a strange and unexpected sensation. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to know if that tingling was from the margaritas or from him (she was inclined to believe it was the latter).  
Clearly, that was off the table. He was her friend and kissing him again would give him all the wrong kind of ideas-  
( _Like she enjoyed the kiss. Like she enjoyed kissing him. Like she liked him in that way_.)  
He was still staring at her, reading her as if she was an open book, with lines etched across her face. He was clearly waiting for her to say something. So Emma being Emma, she decided to pour some cold water on the situation.  
She quickly folded her arms and then licked her lips.  
_(Not_ thinking about the fact that _his_ lips had been there just seconds before-)  
“Why are you doing this?" He sighed at her question, lifting up a hand to run over his beard, "I mean it's not like you love me-”  
“My you are full of questions today, aren’t you?” He was teasing her. But she wasn’t stupid, she could see the the brief frown that passed over his features, almost instantly replaced by the soft little smile that she’d seen a lot of recently.  
His hands rested on her shoulders a second, before sliding down her rain soaked coat and resting on her arms.  
“No love, it’s not because I love you; rather it’s because I care.” His smile deepened a second, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes fanning out over his cheeks. “You're a good woman and I've done some quite shitty things in my time. Perhaps I'm trying to redeem myself with a good deed?”  
Emma scoffed softly, briefly staring at his lips again before meeting his eyes. “So I'm your penance?”  
His smile faltered, his hands moving to hover above where they had previously rested.  
“Hardly, love.” He shuffled briefly on his feet, increasing the distance between them. “Try and look upon it as a good deed. Perhaps one day you will be able to pay it forward.”  
While it was still hard to believe that a person would do something this big for her just out of kindness, she couldn’t deny the truth of the current situation. “I guess I’m not used to people doing nice things for me.”  
“Well that, love, is a true tragedy. And one that I hope to start making amends for come one pm at Wimbledon registry office.”  
A little light feeling fluttered in her stomach. It might have been the first flickers of excitement. Killian has said more than once that even though it wasn’t real didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun. It would be like play acting he’d told her - a chance to be someone else for a day. _Kinda._  
“Thirteen hours away,” she hummed, “I should be going and sleeping or something, shouldn’t I?”  
He nodded, his eyes flickering closed. “That might be a good idea.”  
Emma picked up her purse, offering Killian one last smile that she hoped gave him a little hint of how grateful she was. “See you tomorrow?”  
“Aye Swan,” he nodded. And before she could make for the door, he was close again pressing another kiss on her skin but this time upon her forehead. Her breath caught unexpectedly in her throat, her hands automatically rising up to rest on his chest for the briefest of seconds. “Goodnight,” he whispered.  
Her heart seemed to thump in her chest when she looked up at him again, her own goodnight barely audible against the rush of blood in her ears, her body moving to the door while her eyes lingered upon him.  
Outside it had stopped raining but Emma wasn’t really thinking about that. Instead she was fully occupied with considering the significance that his kiss had left her skin tingling once again.  
It wasn’t the tequila, it was definitely him.

 

**A/N: I'm having altogether too much fun with this. I was thinking it would be 5 parts, but I'm now leaning towards 7. We shall see what the old muse comes up with! Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The ceremony had gone by quickly - their simple vows chosen as they were the most succinct - and if Killian had to hazard a guess he would have thought barely five minutes had passed since Emma had entered on David Nolan’s arm looking beautiful in a cream silk dress. Now it was over, the silver rings they had bought on their fingers, the registrar looking at them expectantly…. and a frozen expression on Emma’s face. 

He’d found it almost charming when she had appeared at his door the night before, drenched and with so many questions. Since this whole idea had formed, his sole motivation had been to do a good deed for someone who sorely needed a break. Of course, when she’d mentioned a kiss, well, it wasn’t too much hardship to kiss a beautiful woman, was it? Now their friends were waiting, the registrar's words hanging in the air and Emma looked like she was terrified.

He took her hand in his, running his thumb across the back of it, whispering, “Breathe, Emma.” 

She looked quickly up at him, her expression softening as she gave him a little nod, her eyes flashing to his lips.  _ Oh yes,  _ he thought,  _ you may kiss the bride.  _  Then, she leaned up onto her toes as he tilted his head to meet her until their lips aligned and touched for a second, just like the night before, the briefest of kisses, enough to satisfy their guests.

But as he went to pull away, she didn’t- instead, she reached up her hand to wrap around his neck, securing him in place as she increased the pressure on his mouth, teasing his lips open with a brief swipe of her tongue. 

If he’d brushed off their kiss from the night before, it was impossible to do so now. She was kissing him; she led their actions, pulling him closer, her other hand resting on his chest, her lips so demanding- like-

_ Like it was real. _

* * *

A late lunch in The Rabbit Hole seemed an appropriate way to celebrate their ‘union’. It was the place where everyone thought their relationship had begun, after all. They had a private part of the bar to themselves and it was decked out with ‘Congratulations’ signs and white and mint balloons hung by Emma’s eager bridesmaids (self appointed when Mary Margaret and Ruby had insisted she couldn’t have a wedding without a bridal party). Their party numbered just over 20 when you counted in a few of Killian’s work colleagues and their assorted mutual friends. They served dinner to their guests  around four large tables, family style in big bowls - heaps of gooey mac and cheese, miniature sliders and chilli fries all washed down with American beers and pitchers of Lynchburg Lemonade.

It was a damn good party if she had to say so herself. Everyone wanted to wish them congratulations and pass on their best wishes that in fact, she barely shared more than one word with Killian. Which wasn’t such a bad thing considering how hard she had kissed him at the end of the ceremony. She told herself it was because she was a little dazed at that point, but if she was really honest, a big part of her had just wanted to know what really kissing him was like.

(And it was great. Of course it was.)

It was past six by the time the hubbub had died down and Emma was able to sit for a moment, slipping off her shoes and sipping on an icy beer.

“That was kind of intense.”

She looked up to see Killian grinning at her. His jacket had been long since disposed of, his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. Handsome bastard, she’d thought. Had he always been so attractive? Of was it the smile he was wearing that made him more so?

“Yeah,” she nodded as he took the seat next to her and they watched their friends enjoying themselves. “I think we did good though.” She winked at him conspiratorially. 

“I concur,” he agreed, tipping his own bottle against hers until they settled into silence for a moment. “You look beautiful, by the way, I didn’t get a chance to say so earlier.”

“Oh, thank you,” she blushed, her hand shyly coming to her mouth. “I had some help.” She added, referring to the hair and makeup assistance that Ruby and Tink had provided that morning. (And also the champagne they had brought that had totally calmed her nerves and helped her not think too much about her encounter with Killian the night before.)

“You’d look fantastic in a bin bag, love.”

Now she was really blushing. Killian had never commented on how she looked before.

“Says you,” she rebuffed, fussing with the hem of her skirt and arranging it over her knees, “You oughta know you wear a suit very well.”

She glanced at him in time to see him grin again and make her heart do a little flippy-thing (that she really didn’t want to analyze right then). “Don’t get cocky,” she added.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Somehow it seemed the right time to say something to him that she hadn’t done enough. “Thank you for this, Killian.”

“You’ve already thanked me,” he whispered, tilting closer to her. “More than once.”

“I somehow don’t think a thousand times would be enough.”

Killian just smiled and picked up her hand and placed a soft kiss upon it.

* * *

A couple of hours later a cab was whisking them from the relative calmness of Wimbledon into the bright lights of central London. Beside them were weekend bags, both carefully packed by their crafty friends. Despite their protestations that they did not want a honeymoon, their friends had all chipped in to book them a suite at Blakes Hotel for the evening.

Of course, the room was amazing. The Corfu Suite was decorated in white and grey, a beautiful four poster bed commandeering the space. There was a bottle of champagne chilling for them as the porter took them to their room, a simple note reading ‘ _ From all of us _ ’ propped up against it.

“They really shouldn’t have,” Emma sighed as she turned the card over in her hands.

“They’re happy for us.”

“Which just makes me feel extra guilty.”

She sat on the couch opposite the bed and kicked off her heels, scrunching up her aching toes. So this was her wedding night - a suite in just about the fanciest hotel she had ever been in. Pity it wasn’t real.

Killian took a seat beside her, his hand finding her knee until she looked at him. “They will never know. It’s more of a white lie than anything else.”

Emma raised her brows but didn’t offer any further comment. She knew he was right, in a way. But she also couldn’t help but feel that for a real wedding, this would have been her dream scenario. She’d kinda blown that now - not that she ever expected to actually get married - but still...

“This place is amazing,” she whispered, looking around at the towering ceilings and simple yet expensive looking furniture.

“It is,” he nodded, picking up the icy bottle before them, “Drink?”

“I guess it is a shame to waste it,” she shrugged.

He was already unravelling the foil before she had finished her sentence, popping the cork with a happy chuckle and pouring out two glasses.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Jones,” he teased.

“Swan-Jones,” she corrected.

“So we’re hyphenating then? What about the kids?”

She offered him an arched eyebrow. 

“Too far?”

Rolling her eyes, she decided to leave that train of thought and went to explore their suite. There was a small corridor from the door to the bedroom, on one side was a dressing room where their cases had been placed. Opposite it she found the bathroom  - it was large and lined with expensive looking gold-flecked marble. At its centrepiece was an oversized spa bathtub, big enough to fit at least four people. It was then that her muscles decided to remind her how much they were aching after a day on her feet and just how much a warm soak would help.

“There’s a spa,” she announced gleefully as she made her way back to Killian. 

She wasn’t quite prepared for the sight of him barefoot and with his shirt unbuttoned to almost his navel, his chest hair on full display (since when did she find that attractive? she thought) as he stood nonchalantly with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his champagne flute.

“Fantastic - doesn’t champagne always taste better with bubbles? Let’s get it fired up.”

“I doubt they packed our bathing suits Killian,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

He tilted his head a moment. “You are wearing underwear though?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, sinking back more champagne. “But that’s not-”

“Come on Swan, I think we deserve it after today’s performance, don’t you? We’re both adults. Nothing neither of us haven’t seen before.”

Emma chewed on her lip for a moment. Yes, they were not sixth graders, and both had seen plenty of people naked… but she wasn’t sure if she was fully prepared so see that much of Killian Jones. But then she did want  to try out those spa jets and taking turns seemed stupid when the spa was so big...

“Fine, just give me a few minutes.”

She took her glass back to the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the tub. She used some of the very fancy looking bubble bath the hotel had provided to get some suds going (which would hopefully keep them both well covered) and then went about undoing the bobby pins that held her hair in place and unzipping her dress. She stared at herself in the mirror. A simple cotton bra had seemed a good idea when faced with the prospect of anything else showing through the silk of her dress and a non-coordinating pair of lace panties had seemed similarly the sensible option when she dressed this morning. But now she couldn’t help but wish for something just a little more cute. Not that she wanted to look cute for Killian, she told herself, she actually scoffed at that idea. More just a whole female pride thing. Wasn’t matching underwear a basic girl thing? She sighed in resignation and tossed back half of her remaining champagne.

He knocked (of course he did) just as she was pushing the button to activate the spa jets. She called him in, trying her best not to feel self conscious as she swirled the water with her hands and tested the temperature. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she slid into the blissful heat; he undressed quickly, leaving him in only a pair of white Calvin Klein's - the tight fitting short kind that left very little to the imagination (and in that moment Emma had a fantastic imagination) and Emma felt relieved that they would both soon been covered by a blanket of suds.

Before he got in, he topped up both their drinks.

“To you and your future in the good old United Kingdom,” he toasted, to which she laughed and took a drink.

* * *

They talked for well over an hour. About work. Politics. TV. Their prediction that Mary Margaret and David would be expecting by the time the year was out. Their other guess that Belle and Jefferson would be a couple by the time the summer had started. They had so many similar opinions.

“Okay, enough gossip,” Emma said as she poured out the last drops of champagne. “My feet are still aching.”

“Let me help with that.”

Quickly Killian was picking up her feet and depositing them in his lap. His hands wrapped around her feet and as he began to massage them, smiling at the way she softly groaned and laid her head on the back of the tub.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

“I have a great many secrets,” he grinned.

“Such as, you were a masseuse in a previous life?”

“Such as, I was in the Royal Navy as a lad and I learned a lot about therapeutic massage.”

“You were in the Navy?”

He nodded.

“I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I talk a lot about. I tried to follow in my brother’s footsteps. Turns out I wasn’t as good at following orders as he is.”

He saw the questions bubbling in her mind, but she didn’t ask any more and he appreciated that. His brief brush with military life wasn’t something he liked to talk about too often.

“So you tried it and it didn’t work out. Big deal - it’s what got you where you are now - right?”

He shrugged, considering where he was at that moment, in a spa with a gorgeous woman he was somehow now married to (legally, at least) and he couldn’t say that this was a terrible consequence.

“You know why I came to England?”

“I actually don’t,” he admitted.

She grabbed the champagne bottle and poured out the last of it between their glasses before stretching out his arms along the back of the tub.

“I’d been living in Boston for a while, just ended a really shitty relationship. I had some cash saved up so I thought, you know, I’m gonna do something just for me. I’d always wanted to go to London, and then this guy I knew told me I could get a visa with my work experience-” She shrugged again. “Here I am.”

“And so far so good?” he asked.

“Yeah… but if I hadn’t of been brave enough to at least try and be different, everything would still be exactly the same.”

“I like your way of thinking.”

She gave him a tired smile and was reminded of his own fatigue. It had been a hell of a day.

“Maybe we should start winding down. I need to turn that sofa into some kind of suitable sleeping place.”

She rolled her eyes.

“ _ We aren’t kids Killian _ ,” she teased, tossing his earlier words back at him, “We can share a bed.”

He was suddenly hot. He hadn’t really banked on this. He’d presumed that she’d want a little distance since they were being forced to share a room.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s not that big a deal, Jones. You have seen my in my underwear now.”

He was definitely blushing now: she was grinning, her eyes full of amusement as she rose from the water and went to reach for one of the towels that were lain out. The water was running down her body, with little patches of soapy suds drizzling along with it. He knew he shouldn’t stare but it was quite the show. By god Emma was stunning. He’d always know that, but there was something about near transparent underwear that clarified a man's feelings on that subject. The water had given him an eyeful of her breasts that were now barely concealed by her bra and the peaked nipples from the cold that were impossible to hide.

With a shaky breath, he looked away. No point dwelling on that train of thought.

But he couldn’t help it… wondering what it would have been like if they had fallen into bed at some unknown point in the past. He knew how she kissed, but that only made him more curious to know how she made love - was she vocal and commanding, or a softer, more pliant lover? What kind of sensations could his hands (and mouth) pull from her? All these wondering were only intensified by her wit and her intelligence and that hint of vulnerability she was starting to let him see.

Oh why was all of this only occurring to him now?

* * *

She was safely under the covers by the time Killian came into the room, thankfully fully covered in sleep pants and a t-shirt.

When she’d seem him get out of the spa, she’d almost choked. His underwear was hiding nothing and her eyes had almost bugged out on stems. It was wrong to objectify, she knew, but damn how had she never realised what good care he took of himself?

While she dressed she’d tried to remind herself of all the reasons that she hadn’t seen Killian as a serious romantic prospect before and frankly she drew a blank. She hadn’t exactly been out looking for anyone, but he’d been right there in front of her for nearly two years and she’d never even considered it.

And now that was completely off the table. Great way to mess up your fake marriage for visa purposes to a really good friend of yours? Sleep with them. (The naked way.)

Emma pulled the covers up to her chin as he slid into the bed, whispering good night, before willing herself to sleep.

And willing herself not to dream of Killian goddamn Jones.

 

**A/N: Gotta admit, I’m not sure about how this turned out! There were a few things I wanted to happen which have but, well, I guess we’ll see how this slides in when all the chapters are done. Any feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

Leaving work early midweek was a luxury for Killian. Usually he found himself chained to his desk until at least 6pm, especially now that he had begun his new job and was getting up to speed with everything at Mills Media. As it was, this Thursday he had made it to the small block that housed his flat just after 5pm, with grand plans for a takeaway and an evening of trash tv.

Which was all fine and well until he actually reached his front door and saw his brother standing outside, a duffel bag at his feet.

“Liam?”

The other man turned, his face lighting up as he saw Killian. “I was just leaving you a note to say I’d be at the pub!” he grinned, tucking the notepad in his hand back in his jacket pocket.

“But… you’re here? Why? I thought you didn’t get leave for another three months?”

His brother shrugged, “I was needed ashore for a meeting and I managed to wrangle in a few days of leave into the bargain.” He took a step closer. “And I have a bone to pick with you.”

“You do?”

“What’s this bollocks about you getting married?”

Killian stared for a moment, his mouth open, brow scrunched as he tried to think of a suitable excuse for not telling his brother.

“Err…”

Liam smiled, “Look, I know we’ve had our differences since you came out of the service but I can’t deny I’m a bit hurt that you could do something like this without even telling me.”

“It wasn’t meant as a slight,” Killian admitted - which was certainly true, “I just… wasn’t sure you would understand.”

“That you had some whirlwind romance and got hitched?”

Killian shrugged. Liam was answering his own questions with surprising accuracy.

“Well I’m here now.” He placed a hand on Killian’s shoulder. “When am I going to meet my sister-in-law?”

* * *

Emma had kept a tactful distance from Killian since their wedding. Just enough contact - the odd dinner, an occasional text - to get the balls rolling on sorting out her visa situation but not enough to risk the return of any of the thoughts she’d had about him. That was too complicated even for her to figure out. Deciding you have the hots for a friend was always a little weird, but a total no-no when you’d just married them.

Luckily, they were both pretty good actors when it came to the few times they had been around their friends. A little hand holding, a chaste kiss or two - they were easily placated and other than that, things seemed to go on as they had before. Until Emma received a whispered phone call from Killian as she made her way home from work.

“ _ Your brother _ ? I thought he was on a ship in the Pacific ocean!”

“He was, but he’s been called back for at least a few days - some Navy business.”

“Okay, well, you’ll just have to keep him busy and away from the guys this weekend - I’ll come up with an excuse for Belle’s birthday party-”

“That’s just it. Bloody David had mentioned something about me getting married - I forgot they keep in touch - and now I’m getting the third degree.”

Emma sighed softly. “And he’s expecting me to be there. In your apartment.”

“We’re married, he’s assumed we live together.”

“Fuucccckkkk,” Emma groaned into the reciever, ignoring the looks of her fellow commuters. Of course after the wedding they had both went back to their respective homes - for appearance purposes they lived in Killian’s flat, but neither of them ever entertained visitors so it had been easy to keep up the pretence with their friends. But this was a different kettle of fish. She had no choice than to play along lest this whole thing blow up in their faces in quite spectacular fashion. “I’ll be there as soon as a I can.”

“Thanks love. I - I am sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice was actually really sweet. He was the one who’d gone the extra mile for her. Now she’d have a chance to pay some of that back. Kinda.

“It’s fine, we should have really planned for this. Don’t worry, he’ll believe I’m the best wife in the world.”

* * *

And boy did he.

From the minute Emma rolled into the flat (with her large-enough-to-hold-a-change-of-clothes-without-raising-suspicions-that-that’s-what-it’s-got-inside-it bag) she had been charm itself. She’d hugged Liam tightly, telling him how excited she was to meet him and teasing Killian that she might have chosen the wrong brother.

Killian had ordered his desired Indian takeaway, but enough for three, and they had chatted over the food. Liam asked a million questions that Emma answered with grace - being sure to keep a hand on Killian’s shoulder or leg. She’d perfected her loving stare into his eyes and the perfect moments to drop kisses onto his cheek that Killian was pretty damn sure that Liam could be in no doubt of their ‘love’.

It was an Oscar-worthy performance for sure, and Killian merely had to follow her lead and play the part of the smitten suitor - not exactly difficult under the circumstances. In fact, Killian wasn’t sure he had ever managed to pull the wool over his brother’s eyes with such effectiveness.

By eleven, Liam was showing signs of tiredness and jetlag, his eyes struggling to stay open. He bid goodnight to Emma before Killian took him through the the tiny spare room that he usually used as an office and prepared the futon in there for Liam to sleep on whilst he unpacked his bag.

“Killian,” he asked as the younger brother was placing a blanket over the bed, “There’s one thing I don’t understand. If you’d known this beautiful woman for so long why the hell did it take so long to ask her out?”

Pausing, Killian turned around. He thought a moment, before shrugging. “I’d never seriously considered it.”

“Really? She’s fantastic.”

Killian nodded. “I completely agree. And I see that more than ever now. But she was a friend and I didn’t want to screw that up.” That much was true - Emma was a friend and had became an even closer one over the past couple of months. He valued her too much to risk that and that’s why she’d always been off limits.

“Or maybe it’s sometimes  hard to see what is in front of you?”

Oh, Liam had always been an insightful one.

Turning back to the futon, Killian smiled. “Maybe.”

* * *

So they were sharing a bed - again. But this time Emma wasn’t as tired and using sleep as an escape from the situation wasn’t an option. Instead she was thinking about what a great evening she had had while staring at the ceiling in the unfamiliar room

“You’re brother is fun,” she whispered once the lights had gone out.

“He’s a character.”

Emma smiled at his tone. You could hear the affection he had for Liam, even though he had spent a lot of time teasing him.

“I like him. You’re a lot alike.”

Killian chuckled. “So you find him devilishly handsome then?”

She shuffled uncomfortably, her feet pulling up to tuck under her legs. Every meeting she had had with Killian since the wedding had reconfirmed just how handsome and charming she thought he was. 

“What?” he asked, a concerned tone to his voice that had her squirming even more.

“Nothing,” she hummed.

“Emma… Spit it out.”

She spun onto her side to face Killian, staring across the darkness at him.

“I was just thinking the other day - why did we never, you know, do anything before? I mean, you never hit on me and I know you’re not exactly a monk. David likes to regale Mary Margaret with tales of your exploits.” Emma cringed. Out loud that sounded a lot more pathetic than in her head.

“David has a big mouth. And exaggerates my prowess.”

He turned his head so they were eye to eye. He wasn’t smiling. 

“I wasn’t trying to say you were, you know… Sorry, this was a stupid thing to bring up.”

But then his hand was reaching across the small chasm she had tried to place between them when she got into the bed.

“I did fancy you, Emma. Of course I bloody did.”

That nugget of information gave her pause.

“Maybe then I didn’t give off the ‘ask me out’ vibe.”

His hand found hers.

“I think it was because I valued your friendship. Friendships haven’t always come easy for me. I was a bit of an ass in my younger days and I’m trying to atone for it.”

“And a fine job you are doing.”

He sighed softly, “I think Liam still sees me as that stupid 25 year old who got kicked out of the Navy. Doesn’t help that I only  see him in person about once a year. Hard for him to see how I’ve grown up.”

“I may have just met him but I think he sees you much more positively than you do yourself.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his fingers dancing over Emma’s hand. She had to admit, she kinda liked him holding her hand.

“Killian, you’re a good guy. Accept it.”

Now that made him smile. Emma liked his smiles. (She liked being the source of his smiles.)

He cleared his throat. “About what you said. I have to confess, I wish I had asked you out.”

“You do?”

“When something is off the table you can realise what you are missing.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Had he been having the exact same thoughts as she had? Feeling brave (or stupid) she replied, “Is it off the table?”

In the half-light - she saw his eyebrows raise before he shifted a little closer to her.

“You tell me,” he whispered, tossing the ball squarely in her court.

Her breathing faltered in anticipation as she gave him a flirty shrug.

Clearly, that was enticement enough, and a few seconds later his lips were on hers, their legs were tangled, his hand was in her hair and hers were around his neck - he pulled her close by the waist until their bodies were flush and they became a heaving, mess of limbs-

Until Emma pulled away, taking a deep breath, the consequences of what they were about to do hitting her.

“Shit, sorry, I-” he mumbled.

“Don’t apologise, I encouraged you.”

They stared at each other for a moment more.

“This is a bad idea.”

“It is complicated,” he nodded.

“Your brother is next door,” she pointed out, her eyes not leaving his lips- “But I can be quiet…”

Then she was kissing him again, pulling one of his hands under her shirt and onto her breast as her teeth tugged at his bottom lip and her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his pants. 

“This is just a one time thing,” she panted into his ear as he tugged off her shirt.

“Sure,” he nodded, before disappearing to pressing biting little kisses down her body. “One time.”

 

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this baby fic! BIG thanks to my beta and all around fab friend nickillian/Ztofan**


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn’t regret that she woke up feeling. How could she when she had Killian’s arms wrapped around her and his lips pressing kisses at her neck? To be honest, she was quite unable to quantify her emotions as she kissed him goodbye and slipped off to work. Pointedly, neither had broached the subject of the meaning of the impromptu sex.

And that was why Emma had spent part of her lunch break scrolling through her phone, trying to think of someone she could talk to.

Mary Margaret was straight off the list. The woman couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.

David was a ditto. He never kept anything from his wife (see first point).

Ruby would lap up the gossip, give her some outrageous advice and then tell everyone anyway.

Tink, well, Tink was great but a little bit too ‘new age’ for Emma to turn to for advice. She’d probably recommend that she light a candle and realign her chakras or something.

Through a process of elimination she decided that Belle was really her only choice. Level headed, intelligent, and best of all, discrete.

“I was surprised when you called,” she smiled as she joined Emma at a little Italian cafe half way between both their places of work. “But I really can’t think of a better way to start the weekend than a real Italian coffee.”

Emma nodded and smiled tentatively. “Well, we don’t often get much time to just hang out.”

Their waiter arrived and doled out the menus. Emma tried to focus on the words but instead she started squirming in her seat.

“True. I’m glad you called. So, how’s things?”

Emma took one look at Belle’s wide smile and frowned. “It’s Killian. ”

“What -  _ what _ ?” 

“Or maybe it’s me.” Emma slumped down a little in her chair.

“What- I’m confused, are you two having problems?”

For a second, Emma questioned what the hell she was doing here with Belle (hell, with Killian). But with momentum behind her, she splayed out her hands on the table and whispered, “I slept with him.”

With a tilt of her head and a squinting of her eyes, Belle said many things. Like , ‘ _ huh _ ’, ‘ _ okay _ ’ and ‘ _ haven’t you done that a whole bunch of times already? _ ’.

“Congratulations?”

“No - urgh - dammit!” Emma slapped her hands on the table, just loud enough to make the silverware clink together and the nearby diners to give her odd looks. She pressed one hand to her mouth and then took a quick gulp of water. “We only got married because of my visa running out.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” Belle breathed, her slow nod of understanding spurring Emma on.

“It was his idea, I was stuck, he’s a good friend, you know. A good guy. And he wanted to help me stay because he knew that I was happy here, and… well…”

Her hands were a little jittery so she shoved them in her lap, leaving her words hanging in the air as Belle stared at her.

“Emma, who does that?”

“Does what?”

Belle smiled in exasperation. “Did it not strike you as odd? Him just offering to do that? Marry you I mean?”

“Wait - I thought we were talking about us sleeping together-”

“Well that’s one issue, but a more pressing one is that a guy agreed to marry you  _ to help you out. _ ”

“He’s a friend-”

“Emma, you don’t just marry your friends.”

Emma sucked in a sharp breath.  “What are you trying to say?”

Belle tossed up her hands in the air. “He must have had feelings for you! Getting married to keep someone in the country is a bit beyond friendship if you ask me!”

There was a sick little feeling in Emma’s stomach that had been niggling at her all day. Now, it turned into full force anxious nausea. “And now we’ve slept together.”

The waiter chose that opportune moment to collect their orders - giving Emma a moment or two to collect her thoughts. 

Belle waited until he had retreated before she leaned across the table. “Do you have feelings for him? Because now you’ve crossed that line, you really need to tread carefully or this is going to blow up in your face.”

Emma pondered the question. Did she have feelings for Killian Jones? She’d married him. He was a fantastic guy. He was a great friend. 

He was more than just a friend.

And there was only one simple answer.

“Yes, I think I do.”

///

Killian wasn’t the usual type to pull a sick day, but he figured Liam being in town created a good enough reason to slack off work and head down the pub for a few pints and games of pool. His brother was in fantastic form, regaling him with tales of the last six months on tour.

And, he was pretty goddamn happy. 

Emma had initiated things the night before. She’d flirted back, she’d invited him to kiss her, she’d placed his hands on her body. And it was glorious and unexpected and a complete eye opener to what could be between them.

He’d offered to help her because he cared. But it wasn’t until they really started getting closer that he realised that it was more than just friendship for him. And now they’d crossed a physical barrier, it was time that they talked. He had no clue if last night was a ‘one off’ like she had said, or if she wanted more. He’d of course respect her wishes either way, but he couldn’t stop feeling anxious about seeing her again.

Liam had arranged to meet up with an old school friend that night and had left Killian before Emma had returned. He’d laughed as his younger brother had fussed about, tidying the flat, putting away their dishes from the night before and straightening up the soft furnishings.

“You’ve always been houseproud, but this is unusual even for you.”

“Emma’s back soon,” Killian had said by way of explanation.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Like a revelation, it hit him. It had taken his brother saying those words to make him understand what the feeling he had been having was.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

* * *

Talking things through with Belle over coffee had really helped Emma iron out the wrinkles in her thought process.

_ She didn’t regret sleeping with him. _

_ She didn’t regret marrying him. _

_ She did need to talk to him. _

The place was quiet when she got back. She found Killian in the lounge, a glass of something that looked like rum in his hand.

“No Liam?” she asked, as she stepped inside.

“Not for a few hours. You’re officially off duty.”

She grinned and shook her head. “Fake wife hat officially removed,” she teased as she sat beside him.

The air was thick with delicious tension for a few moments, both with words ready to trip from their tongues.

Emma got there first. No point wasting time with small talk.

“Killian, when you suggested I marry you, did you have feelings for me? And don’t give me that ‘you care and it’s a good deed’ line. Was there a part of you that hoped it could be real?” She was more steady and firm than she had thought she could be. Maybe it was because she wasn’t looking at him.

He seemed to be weighing something up in his mind. Finally, he replied.

“Yes. But I only really understood that today.”

He twisted to face her on the couch.

“We need to talk.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” she teased, happy to pull a little smile from him. His face looked so worried. She scooted a little closer.

“You know what I mean.” He reached out and took her hand. “I don’t regret last night. It was pretty amazing.”

“Same. I’ve never really thought of you in that way before, but it felt, right?”

He smiled again, tipping his head closer to hers.

“Good. The last thing I wanted was for things to get complicated. I mean, more complicated.”

She nodded, enjoying the way he held her hand and looked in her eyes when he spoke. “But you have feelings for me.”

“I do,” he nodded. “I think I have for a while,” he admitted.

“Asking me to marry you was a bit of an extreme way to explore those feelings.”

“What can I say, I have a flare for the dramatic?”

He chased her laughter with a soft kiss, one that made her toes tingle. She sighed into him.

“What now? I mean we’ve kinda bypassed a few milestones here… And our friends? Do we tell them?” 

“How about we actually go on a date? One thing at a time, love. We don’t even know what this is yet...”

Emma had a good idea where it was heading, but she kept that information to herself.

“I like that plan.” She ran her palms down his chest, happy little memories of the night before flooding back. “A real life date.”

“That I will arrange, if you allow me.”

She gave him a devious glance. “You’re so old fashioned.”

“A true gent.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And as a true gent, how will you look after this lady? I mean, we do have this place to ourselves for a few hours, at least you said.”

He glanced at her lips.

“I have a few ideas.”

“You don’t say?” she hummed, “I might have a few of those myself.”

* * *

They eventually made their way into his bedroom, clothes leading a path to the door, not caring what Liam would think when he got back.

They fell into bed with the ease of friends and the excitement of two learning a new side of each other. It was better than the night before, less frenzied yet uncertain, more honest - they weren’t sure what they were right then, but both were happy to explore and kiss and touch and, well, you know.

It wasn’t until the early in the morning, when Killian was still fast asleep, that Emma crawled out of bed and retrieved her softly bleating phone. 

A text.

from Mary Margaret.

MM:  _ Emma Swan, what the hell is this about you and Killian??? Belle is worried and David and I don’t know what to think. _

“Crap,” Emma sighed, falling back onto the bed and staring at Killian’s prone form. “Guess the time for secrets is up.”

**A/N: Thank you for reading and being so enthusiastic about this lil ficlet!**


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